Hear Me
by She's So High
Summary: Kyou avoided falling in love as long as possible. After all, there were more important things to worry about. But even he couldn't avoid it forever. YAOI


Hear Me

By: Lady DeathAngel

Disclaimer: Not mine, not profiting, 'nuff said.

Warnings: yaoi and a bit of angst.

A/N: Yes! My first Furuba fic ever! Originally I was supposed to write a bit of a longer story, but that's sort of died in my imagination. I had given up hope of writing a Furuba fic ever, but in the throes of writer's block, this popped out. Kyou/Yuki is the pairing and it's . . . odd. Not a fluffy story and it's also written in the second person. So, please read, enjoy, and tell me what you think.

Falling in love is the last thing on your mind. At all times your only thoughts are supposed to be about beating your cousin and earning your rightful place in the family. You can't concern yourself with silly notions of love and happily ever after because, always at the back of your mind, is the knowledge that there may _be_ no happily ever after for you, and if that happens you aren't going to allow yourself to be caged and humiliated. Falling in love is the last thing on your mind because if it doesn't go right, and nothing for you ever does, you won't live long enough to be loved back.

And so you pretend not to care when Shigure goes off on one of his soliloquies about what love is and what love isn't and how beautiful it is. And you pretend not to care when Tohru speaks highly of the experience and shares her mother's insights on what love is and what love isn't and how beautiful it is. You pretend not to care because it's easier to do that than to admit that maybe you'd like to fall in love and have that love requited. You'd like to experience that feeling of loving and being loved back. It's easier to pretend that you don't stare up at the stars night after night, dreaming of freedom you don't have to fight for and wishing for someone beside you to embrace that freedom with you.

It all seems so ridiculous when you think about it anyway. Love is for . . . other people. People like Tohru and Shigure and Momiji and Haru and Kagura and Hatori and Ayame and Yuki. It's not for you.

It's not for the cat.

That's what you've figured out, anyway. It's okay for the cat to be pitied, you've realized. Hatori and Shigure and Ayame tolerate you and pity you. Maybe Shigure has some feelings for you somewhere inside of his scheming heart, but you wouldn't hold your breath. In some cases it's even okay for the cat to be loved. Take Shishou. He loves you, you know that. And it's okay for him to love you like a son and to take care of you. And Tohru, she loves you. She accepts you and always has. There are other things that people feel for you. You aren't sure if Momiji loves you, but he likes you well enough. The same goes for Haru and Kisa and even the brat Hiro.

These are the people that don't treat you like a monster. You're like their brother or their son or their best friend. It's okay for them not to hate you. It's even okay for them to love you.

But you feel the hate more acutely. For every time that Tohru smiles at you and for every time that Momiji teases you, you think of your mother. She said she loved you, but it wasn't really love. You think that she probably hated you and you still can't help but wonder if maybe her death really is your fault.

Often you think of Akito, as well. And a myriad of nameless, faceless family members who have looked upon you with disgust and disdain. But mostly you think of Yuki. Yuki who, no matter what, can not possibly ever love you. It is most definitely _not_ okay for the rat to love the cat. It isn't even okay for the rat to pity the cat. They are supposed to hate each other. They are supposed to want to see each other dead. It is a fact of life that you have never truly been able to accept and that makes you hate him more than anything else possibly could.

Because he doesn't care. He doesn't care that he can't love you. He simply doesn't care about you at all. And you can't react the same way to him. You can't be cool and collected where he's concerned; your whole life will come down to you being able to beat him and that makes every interaction you have with him that much bigger than interactions you have with most everyone else. He, on the other hand, doesn't see a difference between you and the next annoyance. He goes on with life and you watch as he becomes stronger and as he matures and as he falls in love with Tohru and he doesn't have to worry about things like the fucking bracelet on his wrist or his freedom being taken away or suicide being the only way out if things go wrong, and they nearly always go wrong for you.

You're jealous of him for that. You hate the fact that you've got a hot temper and that just when you've started to truly express your love and just when you've started to mature, you're pulling away from everyone again. Because you're scared. You're so damn scared that it'll all end too soon and you can't stand the thought of having tasted something only to lose any chance you'd ever have to get the things in life that everyone else takes for granted. And that's when things start to change. When you're terrified and hiding inside of yourself because your life is ending, and when Tohru and Yuki are excited because their's are just beginning, you feel it deep inside.

It's an odd sensation. A tightness in your chest that _never_ goes away; like a ticking clock something inside you is screaming that time's almost up. It's a lightness in your head that comes and goes and comes and goes; something is whispering in your ear that you've always felt this and _always _known this and that you can't ignore it anymore. It's this need to cry and scream and laugh and run as far and as fast as you possibly can; frustration builds up inside of your body and threatens to blow you into a million jagged pieces and you _don't care anymore_.

You realize, somewhere between your desolation and resignation, that you're in love. And this is nothing like Shigure described. Or even Tohru. It's more like Hana said once, quite randomly.

"True love," she muttered in her low voice. "Is nothing but pain. The sweetest pain you'll ever experience. The kind of pain you don't want to end."

It had scared you to hear it described like that. Where were the flowers and the symphonies? What happened to the elation and the joy? Who wanted to be in love if it was nothing but pain?

Now you think you get it. It's a relief to admit it and it hurts like hell to know you can't have what you want. And somewhere between your desolation and resignation you decide that falling in love with your male cousin isn't the most fucked up thing you've ever done. It makes no sense. He hates you because he has to. He's torn you apart more times than you can count with well-placed verbal barbs and one-sided physical battles. His indifference, his blind hatred, his pity . . . all of it has scarred you in so many ways you wonder how the hell you could possibly love such a bastard.

And that's exactly why. Because he _is_ such a bastard. Prince Yuki, Akito's pet, the favorite of all of the Juunishi, is a complete and _total_ bastard who hates you and hurts you and hates himself and hurts himself and you two are so alike it's uncanny. It took you years to see it, to realize that he is as caged in as you are. And now that you finally do you think you know him that much better and you allow yourself to pretend, just once, that he's perfect for you and that he completes you and that he loves you too.

Of course, this is not the case. He ignores you, as he always does. He saves his soft smiles for everyone but you. And it kills you, but maybe it helps knowing that you did, at least once in your life, experience falling in love.

You don't bother telling him. Or showing him. Instead you die every day on the inside peacefully and you think that you're going without much of a fight. And that's probably what pisses him off. Because what else could you possibly have done?

"Why are you doing this?" he demands.

It's late at night and you're both home alone. Shigure probably thought it was safe since you haven't spoken more than five words to each other in as many days. Apparently, he was wrong, if the way Yuki's grabbed you by the neck of your t-shirt is any indication.

"What the hell are you talking about?" you shoot back.

"Don't play dumb," he says in a low voice. "Are you really just gonna give up?"

You frown because you honestly didn't think he'd care. And you hadn't given up. Not really. You just internalized everything now, instead of taking it out on whoever was the closest target.

"I'm not giving up," you tell him.

He slams you up against the wall with surprising force.

"You're such a selfish bastard," he growls at you. "Do you know how worried everyone's been about you?"

You shake your head and he laughs coldly.

"Of course you don't because you've been so caught up in yourself. That's all you really care about, all you've ever cared about . . ."

"Somebody has to do it!" you yell. You hadn't meant to say that, but it comes out anyway. "Nobody else has ever given a damn about me. If I don't worry about what happens, who will?"

"Stop acting so stupid!" Yuki cries, slamming you against the wall again. "If you'd just pay attention you'd realize that there are people willing to risk their lives for you because they care about what happens to you."

You blink at him, take in the look of anger etched into his features. You've only seen Yuki actively angry a few times before. Mostly his anger is passive. He's strong and always willing to punch you or kick you, but he hardly ever yells like this. He's hardly ever this passionate.

"Do you care?" you finally ask.

It's enough to floor your cousin and he takes several steps back.

"What?"

"Do you care what happens to me?"

There is a long moment of silence, and even though he's several feet away you can hear his harsh breathing and see the look in his eyes, like he's cornered and there's no escape. It is no surprise to you that he says no. But you don't fail to notice the way the word hangs, unsaid, on his lips for several minutes before it trembles out.

"You're lying," you say, incredulously.

"I'm not," he insists. "I _can't_."

And that's what it all boils down to, right? You stand there, staring at each other, and the feeling of being in love bubbles up between you and you _know_ he can feel it. But it isn't right. Neither of you can feel this. Because while it may be okay for the cat to be pitied and even loved, it is not okay for the rat to do anything less than hate the cat. And it is not okay for the cat to do anything less than hate the rat.

And that's why you tried so hard not to feel this way in the first place. Because now you know that even if it's not okay, it can happen. It _has_ happened. The way Yuki is staring at you tells you that he feels the same way. The way he takes a step forward and presses his lips against yours inexpertly and whimpers into a kiss that you aren't even participating in tells you he feels the same way.

"I _can't_," he moans into your mouth and the way the words vibrate against your sensitive lips make you gasp. "_Ican'tIcan'tIcan't_," he says in a rush, the words falling past your parted lips and catching at the back of your throat.

"But you _do_," you say.

"I _hate_ you," he says vehemently. And you believe it, but he doesn't mean it the way he's supposed to because he's kissing you again. His hands are tangled in your hair, tipping your head back so that he can attack your mouth with desperate teeth and an insistent tongue. You've never really been kissed before and he hasn't either and it's awkward and angry and confused and chaotic. It tastes of pain. The kind of pain you never want to end. You moan and kiss him back and then his lips aren't on yours anymore. Instead they're at your collarbone, biting and sucking at the skin, laving it with a skilled tongue and it feels so good you _purr_.

You don't want to lose this. It hits you so hard that you push Yuki away from you roughly. You slide down the wall and he is already sprawled out on the floor and you're sobbing because it _hurts_. _This_ is what you've always wanted. _This_ is what you've always needed. Somewhere, deep inside of you, you know that _this_ is what the cat craves. Not just to be loved and accepted by those who have always loved and accepted it, but to be loved and accepted by those who have always hated it.

You realize then that you're rambling. You're clutching your knees to your chest and telling him how much it hurts and how scared you are and how much you love him and how much you need him and how you can't lose this, you just _can't_, and how it isn't right and that you _hate_ him for making you feel this way. He crawls toward you, hesitates when he gets near you, and you wait for it. You know he'll hit you or laugh and walk away. You tense and squeeze your eyes closed.

His arms go around you slowly, pulling you into his body, holding you close. He takes in a deep shuddering breath.

"Stupid cat," he mutters. "I hate you, too."

And you believe it. And you relax in his arms and you both sit like that, rather uncomfortably, for a long time. That night all that matters is that he doesn't let go.


End file.
